


Messing Up

by emigmatic



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Childhood Friends, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, HanaMatsu as Wingmen, Hanamaki Takahiro is a Little Shit, I'm Bad At Titles, Idiots in Love, Iwaizumi Hajime is Bad at Feelings, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru Angst, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Matsukawa Issei is So Done, Minor Hanamaki Takahiro/Matsukawa Issei, Oikawa Tooru is a Mess, POV Oikawa Tooru, Tags Are Hard, light fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:00:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24683488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emigmatic/pseuds/emigmatic
Summary: He wanted to stare into Iwaizumi’s eyes and see how beautiful they looked reflecting the night sky. (So, he did.)He wanted to lean close enough for Iwaizumi’s deceitfully soft hair to tickle his cheek. (So, he did.)He wanted to inhale deeply and smell everything that was Iwaizumi—the scent of the forest after it rained, tinged with sweat and Air Salonpas. (So, he did.)He wanted to brush his fingers down Iwaizumi’s forearm and then intertwine their hands. (So, he did.)He wanted to tell Iwaizumi Hajime how completely and utterly in love he was with him.So, he did.“I love you.”Or, the one in which making mistakes doesn't always keep you from going up.
Relationships: Hanamaki Takahiro/Matsukawa Issei, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 7
Kudos: 134





	Messing Up

**Author's Note:**

> This was the second piece I wrote for iwaoi (yes, I know, I'm posting them all out of order) and has been adapted slightly to fit the ao3 format. (original can be found on my tumblr @emigmatic)  
> Also, I've decided that I'm probably never going to write a multi-chapter fic because doing this is easier LOL

Oikawa Tooru messed up. Royally. And to make matters worse, he knew he messed up.

In his defense, it wasn’t entirely his fault—Iwaizumi was also to blame for the absolute trainwreck of his impromptu confession. If he hadn’t looked so darn perfect, with his skin bathed in starlight and his eyes reflecting the night sky, Oikawa would have been able to resist the urge to whisper words of love into his best friend’s hair.

It was a Friday night. The boys were dead tired from volleyball practice, and they barely made it into Oikawa’s house before they passed out on the couch. When Oikawa woke up, one of Iwaizumi’s feet was digging into his back and the other was resting next to his elbow.

Yeah, this was bliss.

At least it was, right up until Iwaizumi shifted and his foot rubbed against the sensitive part of his lower back, eliciting an unholy yelp from Oikawa that was far too breathy to be from pain. He clapped his hands over his mouth and flushed scarlet, which was barely noticeable in the golden sun-bathed living room.

Iwaizumi cracked an eye open. “The hell was that, Trashykawa?”

“Ah, you hit a bruise,” he lied, waving his hands nonchalantly. “Sorry for waking you, Iwa-chan.”

Iwaizumi’s eye regarded him suspiciously, and he eventually gave up and went back to his nap. He did, however, wiggle his foot out from under Oikawa, resting it between his hip and the couch.

Looked like he wasn’t buying what Oikawa was selling. (He very rarely did anyways, but he had to at least give him an ‘A’ for effort.)

Within minutes, Iwaizumi had dozed off again, faint snores slipping through his parted lips. Oikawa could not have slept if he wanted to, not when his best friend was bathed in an ethereal golden glow from the setting sun and poised like some kind of model. This whole ordeal just cemented the fact that Iwaizumi was very bad for his health.

Oikawa had come to terms with the way he felt about his best friend during their first year of high school. He’d suspected for years—at one point during elementary school, he told the whole neighborhood he was Iwa-chan’s bride—but was terrified to truly acknowledge the extent of his feelings. Once he accepted them, there was no going back. It was ride or die, in nearly every sense of the phrase.

And yeah, sometimes it sucked being head over heels in love with his best friend. Iwaizumi was incredibly popular among the female athletes, and even some boys had shown an interest in him. Oikawa had suffered silently and encouraged him to date someone. “You can’t be alone forever, Iwa-chan,” he said after the nth rejection. “If you keep saying no, you’ll end up being an old, lonely hermit!”

Iwaizumi just shrugged it off. “None of them are right for me, Tooru.”

Then he walked off, sipping his juice box, blissfully unaware of the tango Oikawa’s heart was doing. (Well, partial tango, because he had yet to reel in his dancing partner.)

Iwaizumi did, however, go out with a girl a week later. It didn’t last long, even though Oikawa desperately tried to give him relationship advice. (A horrible decision, really, considering the latter’s track record with girls.) At the end of it, Oikawa was more invested in the relationship than Iwaizumi. He had wanted it to work out so bad, because then he could choke out the knot that formed in his throat whenever he was around Iwaizumi.

But other times, being in love with his best friend was an out-of-this-world experience—his favorite type—like when Iwaizumi fell asleep tucked into his side while stargazing. Or when he nailed a toss and made it past the blockers and Oikawa felt a rush of pride and love for his ace. Or when they went to the arcade and he won the cheesy alien keychain for him because Oikawa sucked at video games. Or during moments like the one he was in, where sat together in a comfortable silence, completely at ease and fully content.

Oikawa’s mom came into the living room to tell them dinner was ready. She couldn’t hide her smile when she saw her son gazing so fondly at Iwaizumi. He hadn’t told her yet, and he really didn’t need to because she already knew. In fact, she knew before Oikawa did. The sight made her hum happily on her way back into the kitchen.

“Iwa-chan~” Oikawa called in a singsong voice as he poked his best friend in the ribs. Iwaizumi swatted at his hand and he pulled back with a chuckle. “Dinner’s ready.”

He grumbled incoherently and rubbed his eyes.

Oikawa leaned closer. “Hmm?”

“I said, ‘Get off me so I can get up,’ Trashykawa,” Iwaizumi spoke groggily.

Feeling childish, Oikawa gave him his signature grin. “Make me, Iwa-chan!”

He didn’t have to say it twice. In the blink of an eye, Iwaizumi had Oikawa pinned against the couch cushions, one hand on his shoulder and one behind his right knee.

The effect was immediate. Oikawa inhaled sharply and colored a red bright enough to stand out in the fading sunlight. His pulse quickened, and when Iwaizumi gave him a rare smirk, his soul left his body and started ascending to heaven. It only lasted a few seconds, but it felt like an eternity.

“Boys!” Iwaizumi released Oikawa and, with the calmest demeanor he could muster, left the room. His hands started shaking as soon as he was out of sight.

Oikawa, on the other hand, was trying to rein in his thoughts. It took a minute, but he finally composed himself enough to join his family at the dinner table. Even then, the tips of his ears were dusted pink.

It was all downhill from there for Oikawa. They finished dinner and went up to his room to play games until the stars were out. Iwaizumi got cold and borrowed a hoodie because he didn’t want to go home to grab one. Oikawa almost lost his mind because _Iwa-chan was wearing one of his hoodies and it was freaking adorable._ He did note, however, that the sleeves were stretched taut across his muscular arms. Yeah, Iwaizumi was _really_ bad for his health.

“You lose!” the game taunted Oikawa for the tenth time in a row. He groaned and dropped the controller into his lap. “Iwa-chan is so mean! You didn’t even let me win once!”

Iwaizumi blinked in response, although Oikawa’s trained eyes saw the corner of his lip twitch up in a tiny grin. “It’s not my fault you suck at this game, Trashykawa.”

“So mean…” he flopped face-down on his bed. They sat in silence for a few minutes before an alarm went off on his phone—playing the X-files theme because _aliens_ —and Oikawa came to life again. “Time to stargaze, Iwa-chan!”

Iwaizumi graciously allowed himself to be dragged out of the house and into the backyard without a single complaint, which was unusually compliant of him. Oikawa thought nothing of it as he spread out the quilt they had been using for years over the prickly grass.

The western sky was still tinged pink from the setting sun, and clouds streaked along the horizon. But above their heads, the sky was clear and shone with billions of stars. They were at the edge of the city, so the light pollution hid the full display of the Milky Way’s arm, but the view was nonetheless breathtaking.

One would think that Oikawa would be tired of staring at the same patch of sky night after night, but to him it was exciting. He made new discoveries all the time, from finding a new constellation to watching shooting stars and satellites dart past. It also gave him a chance to enjoy Iwaizumi’s company, even if it was occasionally given begrudgingly. When they were younger, Iwaizumi had hated it. “It’s so boring!” he’d whine. “I want to go catch fireflies!”

Oikawa would watch him run around with his net, swinging frantically to catch as many of the poor bugs as he could. And he let him do it, because he knew in a few minutes he’d get all tuckered out and come back to lie next to Oikawa on the quilt. Then they’d point out constellations and make new ones with the fireflies above them, laughing all the while.

“How long are you gonna stand there, Trashykawa?”

Oikawa shook his head, pushing the memories aside and grinning brightly. “I was just reminiscing about stargazing with Iwa-chan.”

“Well, stop. You have a gross smile on your face,” Iwaizumi barked, although inwardly he too was smiling.

Oikawa hummed in return, still grinning, and planted himself on the quilt next to his best friend. Normally they lied on their backs, but tonight they both sat up, their shoulders brushing and their knees tucked up to their chests.

Starlight and moonlight bathed everything in a soft white, growing brighter as time wore on. The silence was broken by the chirp of crickets and gentle murmurs as they pointed out different sights to each other.

Iwaizumi was always the first to find a constellation—Scorpio, of course, because even then he had a love for bugs. That was as far as he went though, and Oikawa was left to point out the rest. He did have a remarkably good eye for spotting shooting stars, and when he saw the first one that night, he literally grabbed Oikawa’s attention by gripping his wrist tightly.

It had been at least an hour since they started looking, and it was a magnificent sight to behold. But Oikawa wasn’t gazing upwards to see the star; no, his eyes were fixed on the look of awe that had spread over Iwaizumi’s face. He wasn’t the type to get excited about stargazing, but every now and then he was completely enamored by something, and it made Oikawa’s heart thump loudly in his chest. How could he not be happy when his favorite person was as amazed as he was by his favorite thing?

It was moments like these where Oikawa realized just how stupidly in love he was with his best friend.

And it was moments like these that made him want to say it out loud, to at least free himself from it, if not to confess.

He wanted to stare into Iwaizumi’s eyes and see how beautiful they looked reflecting the night sky. (So, he did.)

He wanted to lean close enough for Iwaizumi’s deceitfully soft hair to tickle his cheek. (So, he did.)

He wanted to inhale deeply and smell everything that was Iwaizumi—the scent of the forest after it rained, tinged with sweat and Air Salonpas. (So, he did.)

He wanted to brush his fingers down Iwaizumi’s forearm and then intertwine their hands. (So, he did.)

He wanted to tell Iwaizumi Hajime how completely and utterly in love he was with him.

So, he did.

“I love you.”

The words slipped out before Oikawa even realized it, as though they had a mind of their own and could no longer be restrained. Iwaizumi’s pulse quickened beneath his fingers and when he looked into his eyes, he saw a reflection of himself.

That’s when panic set in.

Oikawa began spluttering frantically as he jerked away from Iwaizumi, his hands flailing and face burning. “As friends! As friends! Iwa-chan is my best friend!”

Iwaizumi wasn’t buying it (again). And if the total lack of a reaction was anything to go by, Oikawa was doomed. He’d slipped up before, but he had never straight up _confessed_. The rules were completely different now, and with the ball in Iwaizumi’s court, he’d never felt more terrified.

Iwaizumi shifted uncomfortably and looked away, unsure of what to do. Emotions were not his thing—they never were and probably never would be. But that didn’t mean he was ignorant of them, and he had a way of seeing right through Oikawa’s façades. And what he saw now was frightening.

“Iwa-chan?” Oikawa murmured once he was able to talk clearly.

“I think I should go home for the night.”

“Ah, Iwa—”

“Goodnight, Oikawa.”

And just like that he was gone.

Oikawa watched his form disappear into the house, too stunned to say anything. By the time he was able to move, Iwaizumi was by the front door, tugging his shoes on. “Iwa-chan!”

“Be quiet!” Iwaizumi hissed, a bit more harshly than necessary. “You’ll wake y—”

“I’m sorry! I—” Oikawa let out a strangled sob. “I didn’t mean to—”

Iwaizumi straightened, his hand already clasped around the door handle.

Oikawa took a breath and raised his gaze to look at Iwaizumi. “D-Do I disgust you? Do you hate me?”

And for the first time in his life, Iwaizumi refused to look him in the eye. His heart cracked at that. “I don’t know.”

Oikawa stood as Iwaizumi walked out, but dropped to his knees when the door clicked shut. This couldn’t be happening. How could he have messed this up so bad? Iwaizumi was disgusted for sure. He probably ha—

“Tooru? Tooru, what’s wrong?” His mother’s gentle hands swept over his shoulders.

Oikawa’s knees hurt and his toes were cramped from kneeling for who knows how long, but none of it compared to the indescribable pain that tore through his chest. It hurt so bad that he couldn’t _breathe._ His lungs burned and his hands tingled and his vision dimmed, but none of it registered with him. None of it but the sinking pit in his stomach and blinding pain in his chest.

“Tooru?” She knelt in front of him, and as soon as she saw the look of anguish on his face, she knew. “Oh, Tooru…”

He cried. What else could he do?

His mother combed her fingers through his hair in an attempt to soothe him as sobs racked his body. But it only made it worse, because it brought back all the memories of times when Iwaizumi did that. She hushed him and rubbed his back, and he remembered all the times Iwaizumi did that. She pulled his hands away from his face and looked at him with so much worry and concern, and the only thing he could do was remember all the times Iwaizumi did that.

But when she pressed a soft kiss to the top of his head and cradled her son in her arms, he realized that he would never be able to remember all the times Iwaizumi did that, because Iwa-chan never would.

So yeah, Oikawa cried. The alternative was to bottle it up again, but after sitting on his feelings for his whole life, he didn’t know if he could survive any more of that.

He cried in his mother’s arms until the sun came up and his tears dried up and his mouth felt like a desert. It was exhausting, but when he finished, he felt somewhat better. Maybe Iwaizumi just needed some time to think things through. Maybe they would talk after the extra practice today and put the whole thing behind them. It truly was an accident, although the veracity of Oikawa’s confession was undeniable.

By the time Oikawa’s father was awake and moving around, Oikawa had migrated to the living room. His mother was nursing him with a hot cup of tea and a box of tissues—half of which he used to try and dispel his sniffling. (It didn’t work.) They talked in hushed tones on the way to the kitchen, leaving Oikawa alone with a scalding cup of tea, a mountain of used tissues, and his feelings.

He inhaled and exhaled slowly, evening out his breathing so he could think. It wasn’t too late yet; he could still formulate a plan to salvage his friendship with Iwa-chan. Planning was what he did best, so he set his mind to work and blocked out the rest of the world.

Half a dozen botched ideas later, his eyelids started to droop. His parents were still talking, their voices much fainter now, and the couch cushions looked increasingly tempting. He leaned over and tried not to think about how Iwaizumi had been lying in the same spot a short time ago. He tried not to close his eyes, which felt as though they were being weighed down with lead. He tried not to let the dark cloud of restless sleep fall over his mind. He tried not to think of how much he loved Iwaizumi Hajime.

‘Tried’ was the operative word.

He woke up several hours later feeling completely unrested. His head hurt even more than it had in the morning. _In the morning._ He glanced at the living room clock and jumped to his feet in horror. “I need to go to practice!”

His mother appeared behind him and caught his arm in an iron grip. “No, Tooru, what you need to do is go lie down in your bed! You have a fever!”

Oikawa pressed his hand to his forehead. “I’m fine, Mom. I have to go because—”

When he choked midsentence, she held up the thermometer. Yeah, he had a fever. “Bed,” she shooed him with her hands. “Now.”

Under normal circumstances he would have put up more of a fight, but these were anything _but_ normal circumstances. His mother tucked him in and got him water and a cooling pad. She gave strict instructions not to contact Iwaizumi, and had him message Hanamaki that he wouldn’t be going to practice.

>>> Sorry, Makki! I caught a cold and can’t go to practice today!

He attached a picture of himself in bed, a dramatic look of agony on his face as he threw up a peace sign.

Hanamaki replied a few minutes later.

>>> A cold in the summer? Did something happen?

>>> I was out too late stargazing. Is Makki worried? I’ll be fine by Monday! ;P

>>> Then why are you texting me and not Iwaizumi?

Oikawa left him on read and went to sleep.

* * *

When Monday morning rolled around, Oikawa felt as good as new. Well, there was the exception for the Iwaizumi-sized hole in his heart, but other than that he was fine.

However, he was almost late to school. He’d grown accustomed to Iwaizumi busting through his bedroom door and dragging him along, but he unsurprisingly was absent this morning. It wasn’t until his mother called to him that Oikawa realized the time and raced out the door.

He made it into his desk just as the bell rang and the teacher took his place at the front of the room. Oikawa daydreamed while the teacher droned on about English poems, his eyes fixed on some distant point out the window. He wondered if Iwaizumi would talk to him during breaks. He hoped he did, but he knew better than to try and force him to do something. He sighed heavily and dropped his head into his palms.

Hanamaki cast a concerned glance at Oikawa. Something was definitely wrong; the evasive look in Iwaizumi’s eyes on Saturday’s practice and the fact that they didn’t walk to school together was more than enough evidence. Oikawa probably did something stupid to a girl again and Iwaizumi was scolding him. It wouldn’t be the first time this had happened, and he had a feeling it wouldn’t be the last.

When the break period started, Oikawa stayed planted in his seat. Girls swarmed him and he chatted with them lightly, but there wasn’t any joy in his smile. Yeah, something was up.

Hanamaki chased the girls away and plopped into the seat in front of Oikawa. “Are you going to tell me what happened, or do I have to figure it out myself?”

“Eh, Makki, what do you mean?” Oikawa smiled dumbly.

“Something happened between you and Iwaizumi. Everyone with a brain can see it.”

Oikawa laughed unconvincingly—not to say he didn’t try to cover it up. “I don’t understand. Everything is—”

“If you say ‘fine’ I’ll steal your milk bread at lunch.”

“Mean!” Oikawa slapped his forearm.

“Ooh, a fight?” Matsukawa strolled up to them, a juice box in his hand.

“Oikawa did something dumb.”

Matsukawa took a long sip of his juice. “What’s unusual about that?”

“Eh, so mean, Mattsun!” Oikawa wailed dramatically. “You’re both so mean to me…”

“He and Iwaizumi are fighting,” Hanamaki continued, his hands occupied with keeping Oikawa’s out of his face.

“Oh? Is that why Iwaizumi is in such a foul mood?”

Oikawa withdrew his hands and crossed his arms, his eyes turning back to focus on the horizon as he set his jaw uncomfortably.

Normally Oikawa would pout and whine before running back to Iwaizumi for forgiveness. This time, he was neither pouting nor whining. No, this was much more than some piddly argument over Oikawa’s bad relationship decisions.

Hanamaki and Matsukawa shared a look. There was only one thing that could cause Oikawa Tooru to mope around.

Matsukawa pulled a chair over and Hanamaki scooted closer. Oikawa glanced at them suspiciously. “Is there something on my face?”

“Actually, it’s the lack of ‘something’ on your face,” Matsukawa grumbled and slurped his juice noisily.

“Did you tell him?” Hanamaki’s voice was nearly drowned out by Matsukawa—which was undoubtedly intentional.

Oikawa choked but recovered quickly. “Eh, Makki? Tell who what?”

“Iwaizumi—”

“—you love him.”

The slurping from Matsukawa’s straw rang in his ears. Oikawa wet his lips with his tongue and leaned forward, trying to keep his voice even as he responded, “Iwa-chan is my friend.”

Hanamaki facepalmed and Matsukawa crumpled his juice box with a sigh.

“It’s the truth!” Oikawa lied, speaking loud enough for several classmates to look his way. “I’m not—” his voice faltered.

Iwaizumi was walking past the classroom, his eyes set straight ahead. Hanamaki and Matsukawa followed Oikawa’s gaze and watched Iwaizumi disappear down the hall without so much as a nod in their direction.

“You must have done something _really_ stupid,” Hanamaki pursed his lips.

“Ah, you’ve got it bad, Oikawa,” Matsukawa whistled lowly.

“I—” Oikawa was at a loss for words.

“Oh, come on, you think we wouldn’t notice? Iwaizumi is denser than osmium about it, but we aren’t blind.” Hanamaki patted his arm gently.

“How—”

“The lovestruck look on your face every time he hit one of your tosses was a dead giveaway. You never made that face for us.” Matsukawa put one finger up.

“‘Iwa-chan~!’” Hanamaki exclaimed in a high pitch voice. Matsukawa put up another finger. “And he’s the only one who gets away with scolding you.”

“He’s come to practice _multiple times_ wearing your warm-up gear instead of his. He said it’s because you made a drawer of your stuff at his house, and that’s weird.” Matsukawa added two more fingers. (Ironic.)

“You do everything together. You come to school together, you practice together, you walk home together, you practically live together—” Oikawa opened his mouth to protest, but Hanamaki kept going, “He always fixes your tie by the lockers in front of all your fangirls and makes them glare at him in jealousy.”

Matsukawa was quickly running out of fingers. Oikawa had to intervene. “Alright, fine! You win, Makki and Mattsun. But what about it?”

“Well, considering the awful mood he’s in, I’m guessing you said something to him, didn’t you?”

Oikawa coldly regarded Matsukawa. He always forgot how observant he was until it came back to bite him. But he couldn’t keep up his glare for long, because he knew he was right. His shoulders slumped in defeat and he lowered his gaze. “It was an accident…”

Hanamaki shared a look with Matsukawa. He’d caved way too easily, which meant it must have ended badly. They leaned closer. “Do you wanna…?”

“Not really, no,” Oikawa grimaced and twiddled his thumbs on the desk. “But I’m guessing you won’t leave me much of a choice, huh?”

“No.”

“Nope.”

“Mean…” Oikawa sighed, fidgeting uncomfortably. He usually liked attention, but that was because cute girls were fawning over him. Now he had nothing but the curious and concerned gazes of his teammates to answer to. “W-We were stargazing…”

They leaned in once more as he took a deep breath to steady himself. “We were stargazing, and everything was perfect, and he looked so perfect and _it just slipped out.”_

Matsukawa raised his eyebrow. “That’s it?”

“I panicked—” there was no sense lying to save face now, “—and told him I meant as friends. But he got up and started to leave, so I asked if he was disgusted by me or hated me.”

“What did he say?” Hanamaki cocked his head to the side, the curious glint in his eye increasing.

“He said he didn’t know.” Oikawa shrugged and bit his lip to hold back the sea of emotions swirling in his chest that threatened to spill and choke him.

“I see.” Hanamaki cast a glance in Matsukawa’s direction and their eyes met. These morons…

“He probably hates me now. I totally ruined everything.” Oikawa buried his face in his hands.

“Just give him a little space and some time, I’m sure he’ll come around. You two have been together for far too long to drift apart because of this,” Matsukawa spoke sagely. “I would probably freak out a bit too if my best friend admitted to being in love with me.”

“You _did_ freak out,” Hanamaki stated bluntly.

“Well, yeah. I thought you were pulling a prank on me.” Matsukawa snorted and tossed the empty juice box at him.

Oikawa groaned into his hands, oblivious. Hanamaki smacked the juice box away. “Why would anyone joke around about wanting to date you, idiot?”

“I thought you would.”

“Well, clearly you were wrong, because here we are.”

“Unfortunately.”

“You know you love me.”

“It’s my biggest regret.”

Oikawa bolted upright in his seat, his brain finally processing their bickering. “I’m sorry, _what?”_

“Oh, you didn’t know?” Hanamaki looked at him in surprise.

“We’re dating.” Matsukawa leaned over and picked the juice box up off the floor.

“What? Since when?” Oikawa’s problems were put on temporary hold at this unexpected revelation.

“October?”

“November, Makki.”

“Oh, right. But you confessed in October.”

“I distinctly recall you confessing first, but whatever.”

“What the heck, why didn’t you tell me?” Oikawa interjected. Thinking back, they did start acting a lot closer back then. He was mentally smacking himself for not picking up on it sooner.

They shrugged in unison. “You never asked.”

“Anyways, can’t we go back to my problems? This is whole thing is supposed to be about me, remember?”

“Ah, but the author said it’s our turn to—”

“Me.”

“Fine.”

And with that, Oikawa went back to moping.

Matsukawa patted him on the back in a poor attempt at consolation. “Don’t worry about it. You two always work things out.”

“Yeah, and if Iwaizumi really hated you, he would have ditched you years ago,” Hanamaki smiled warmly and put his hand on Oikawa’s shoulder. “You’re insufferable.”

“You mock my pain, Makki. How mean…” Oikawa sighed loudly.

The bell rang, again, and Matsukawa left to go back to his classroom. Oikawa hoped that Iwaizumi would come to talk to him during lunch. When lunch rolled around and Iwaizumi was nowhere to be seen, he told himself they would talk that evening when he was done with volleyball practice. Iwaizumi didn’t even walk past his house on his way home.

“Tomorrow, then,” Oikawa told himself aloud as he climbed into bed, partly for reassurance and partly to maintain his sanity.

* * *

The next day was the same; Oikawa didn’t see hide nor hair of Iwaizumi during break periods or lunch. But, of course, he couldn’t avoid him forever, because they both had volleyball practice together.

The tension in the locker room was thick enough to cut with a knife. (In fact, a couple of first-years mimed the offending action, and were promptly chewed out by Iwaizumi.) Oikawa kept shooting glances in Iwaizumi’s direction, but they were never returned. If anything, they were completely deflected by his broad shoulders that were unusually stiff—stiff enough that he asked Hanamaki to massage them loose so he didn’t get hurt.

Oikawa flinched at that. He was the one who was supposed to do that. He had done it before their games for years. The apologetic look Hanamaki shot him softened the blow only marginally; the sting of it still forced its way into his heart. He pursed his lips and left the locker room, a pit forming in his gut.

Practice was worse than he anticipated.

“Oikawa!” Coach Irihata waved him over after a few rough volleys.

He wiped the sweat from his face as he jogged over, forcing himself to smile brightly. “Yes, Coach?”

“Are you still sick?”

“Ah, no—”

“Then why do your tosses to Iwaizumi look so strained?”

His smile faltered.

Coach Irihata sighed and pinched his brow. “Are you two arguing over something?”

Silence.

“Your tosses to him are all over the place, and I can tell he’s struggling to hit them, but he’s not complaining in the least.” Coach Irihata fixed him with a firm gaze. “It’s making the rest of the team uneasy.”

“Sorry, Coach. I’ll be more careful.”

His eyes widened slightly. Oikawa never apologized. He cleared his throat and shook his head, feeling a bit unsettled. “I understand if you two aren’t seeing eye to eye on something, but please leave your differences off the court. You are the leaders of this team. Don’t be petty.” His voice softened, “Alright, off you go.”

Oikawa jogged back to his spot on the court, plastering a confident smile on his face to hide his embarrassment of being called out by the coach. It had been _years_ since that happened. He risked a glance at Iwaizumi and their eyes met.

One heartbeat.

Two heartbeats.

Iwaizumi turned away.

The rest of practice was uneventful. Oikawa controlled his tosses to Iwaizumi and made sure he hit them perfectly every time. He couldn’t let his personal feelings hinder the ace, and that fact was hammered into his head every time Iwaizumi connected with the ball.

The whistle tweeted, signaling the end of practice. The team collected stray balls and cleaned up the gym as quickly as they could, desperate to leave and buy ice cream to abate the summer heat. Breathing heavily and chugging water, the boys funneled into the locker room to change.

Oikawa was tugging his practice jersey over his head when a hand brushed his shoulder.

“Sorry.”

Oikawa fought with the annoying jersey and ripped it off just as Iwaizumi disappeared through the door. “Iwa-chan!”

He burst into the hall, not even caring if he was shirtless, but he was too late. Iwaizumi had already vanished.

A group of girls screamed behind him, but he paid them no mind as he went back into the locker room, his heart pounding. What on earth was that apology for? He was scared to know.

But he couldn’t ignore the seed of hope that had been planted in his chest. This was good, right? After three days, they were at least acknowledging one another. Oikawa was going to claim his victories where he could.

He smiled all the way home.

The next day was a little better. When they passed in the halls, Iwaizumi inclined his head subtly, and Oikawa suppressed the urge to jump on him. They meshed a little better in practice, and Coach Irihata nodded his approval. They weren’t talking and hanging out like normal, but things were starting to look up.

Thursday was bad. Iwaizumi was irked about something—Hanamaki let slip that they had talked the night before, so he was probably to blame. He avoided Oikawa like the plague, turning away from him in the hallways and asking to be on a different team during volleyball practice.

On his way out of the locker room, he could feel Oikawa’s eyes burning into his back. He turned, partially, and held his gaze for a few seconds before leaving again.

So much for progress.

* * *

“What did you say to him, Makki?” Oikawa hissed, rightly enraged.

“Calm down, people will stare,” Matsukawa soothed from the opposite booth. The three of them were sitting in a ramen shop after practice. Hanamaki had suggested it as a way to ‘boost his spirits,’ but if anything, it just made Oikawa more depressed.

“Nothing much.” Hanamaki lifted a bite of noodles to his mouth.

“Makki…”

Hanamaki shivered. Oikwawa’s singsong voice was terrifying, and the gleam in his eye was anything but friendly. “Fine,” he dropped the noodles. “I told him he can’t go back to being all buddy-buddy with you until he gives you a response. It’d be all kinds of wrong.”

“You _what?”_ Oikawa wasn’t sure if he was angry or happy.

“Look at it this way,” Matsukawa intervened. “If he tries to pretend it never happened, you won’t know how he feels, and you’ll never get over him. But if he tells you his feelings outright, you will either kiss and makeup or finally be free to move on.”

“Mattsun and Makki are sly…” Oikawa exhaled deeply and put his chopsticks down. “But now he’s avoiding me again!”

“Well, I told him he needs to quit running and sort things out in his head. Listen,” Hanamaki pointed his chopsticks at Oikawa. “Like it or not, you threw a total curveball at Iwaizumi. You’ve known each other since you were babies; you did everything together. You’re obviously important to one another, there’s no denying that. But once you bring love into the equation…

“Well, it’s a total game changer. You realized your feelings first, so you got off easy. But now Iwaizumi has to step back and look at his own feelings to figure out exactly what he feels towards you. Trying to discern between platonic and romantic feelings isn’t easy for childhood friends.” Hanamaki took a sip of water and added, almost like an afterthought, “He also knows it would be unfair to you to do otherwise, so he’s taking this seriously. You should feel honored, really.”

Oikawa knew he was right, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. He’d heard the horror stories before—people pining away for their best friends forever or getting dumped without a second thought. The fact that Iwaizumi was even taking the time to consider everything was rare. He frowned and stabbed at his food. “Iwa-chan is too good for me.”

“Yeah, probably.”

“Mean, Mattsun! Mean!”

* * *

Oikawa stared down at his now-soggy bowl of cereal. It was Friday, and one week had passed since he accidentally confessed to his best friend.

“Tooru, you have to leave soon.”

He looked up to where his mother leaned against the kitchen doorframe. She wasn’t scolding him or rushing him; she was simply trying to care for him. He needed to do something nice for her once this whole mess was over. “Yeah. I’m almost ready.”

“Your sister is coming to visit this weekend. She said Takeru wants you to show her all the tricks you’ve been teaching him.”

Oikawa hummed and threw the rest of his cereal away. Normally he’d be champing at the bit to play volleyball with his precious nephew, but there was something melancholic about teaching the kid. Maybe it’s because Takeru was the same age as he was when he and Iwaizumi started playing together.

He released a breath he didn’t know he had been holding. Everything always came back to Iwaizumi. It was going to be impossible to get over him.

Oikawa hoped he wouldn’t have to.

His mother rubbed his back gently. “Here,” she grabbed her wallet from the counter and took out a couple thousand yen. “Go buy yourself some ice cream after practice and offer to share it with Hajime.”

“Mom—”

She thrust the money into his hands, the firm look in her eyes telling him she wasn’t going to take no for an answer. “I’m tired of watching you mope around this house like a lovesick puppy. Fix it or die trying.”

Oikawa grinned tightly and pocketed the money. Yeah, he really owed her something now.

He finished getting ready for school and headed out the door. He had only gone a few steps when he saw someone standing by the front gate.

“Iwa-chan…” he breathed the name like it was a prayer. (And, in its own right, it was.)

Iwaizumi pulled an earbud from his ear and studied Oikawa quietly. He nodded curtly and started walking, tucking the earbud back in and glancing down at his phone.

It took all of the strength Oikawa could muster to not start gushing about anything and everything to his best friend, but Iwaizumi was making it abundantly clear that he didn’t want to talk. So, Oikawa bit his tongue, and silently walked to school with his best friend.

When they reached the gates, he slowed to a stop. Iwaizumi noticed and turned him quizzically, taking out his headphones and tilting his head. Oikawa fingered the yen in his pocket, nerves making his hands tremble. Embarrassing. “Uh, I got some money from my mom for ice cream. Want to get some after practice? With me?”

Iwaizumi stared at him.

“Ah, it’s fine if you don’t want to. I’ll ask Ma—”

“Okay.”

Oikawa perked up. “Okay?”

“Yeah. We need to talk anyways.” And with that, Iwaizumi turned and continued walking into the school.

Oikawa knew he should be excited. He was finally going to talk with Iwa-chan! But that also meant Iwaizumi had an answer for him, and the terror of hearing it was overwhelming. He really was going to fix things or die trying.

* * *

“You seem extra gloomy today.” Hanamki took his now usual seat in front of Oikawa.

Oikawa merely grunted and leaned back in his chair. It was break time, and his stomach was doing flip-flops.

“Matsukawa said you walked to school with Iwaizumi. Shouldn’t you be happy about that?”

“Well, I am, it’s just…” Oikawa trailed off and gazed out the window.

“It’s just what?”

“WeagreedtogogeticecreamafterschoolandtalkthingsoutandI’mreallysca—”

“Oikawa, _breathe.”_

He took a breath. “We’re going to get ice cream after practice and talk about…” he waved his hand, “…this.”

“Oh.” Hanamaki glanced at Matsukawa, who was plopping down into the seat next to them. “And you’re scared because he’s going to tell you how he feels?”

“I’m not scared of anything, Makki!”

“’f course you’re not,” Matsukawa drawled. “That’s why you’ve been moping around for a week and you have bags under your eyes and jump every time you hear someone mention him.” He sipped his juice. “Definitely not scared.”

“Mean, Mattsun!”

Hanamaki gave his boyfriend a dirty look and patted his friend’s arm gently. “It’s okay to feel that way, Oikawa. It’s healthy, even.”

“But I’m _not_ scared! I’m just a little worried, that’s a—” Oikawa stopped midsentence, his jaw going slack.

“What is—” Hanamaki and Matsukawa followed his gaze. “Oh.”

Iwaizumi was standing in the doorway, scratching the back of his neck uncomfortably as his eyes bounced around the room. ‘Oh’ was right.

After a minute’s hesitation, he walked over and leaned against the desk Hanamaki sat at. He didn’t say anything, and he kept his eyes averted, but his mere presence spoke volumes.

Maybe things will be okay. Oikawa shook his head internally. Maybe he was here to give Oikawa one last memory of hanging out before he dashed his heart to pieces.

An awkward silence hung over the group like a dark cloud for a few minutes. Finally, unable to stand it any longer, Hanamaki started yammering on about some game he recently discovered.

Oikawa did his best to follow along, but Hanamaki’s explanation was too longwinded and Iwaizumi was _right there._ So yeah, he let his gaze drift a little, and every time Iwaizumi moved, he snapped his attention back to Hanamaki. Heaven forbid he get caught and Iwaizumi gets irked and leaves. Oikawa wanted to have his cake and eat it too.

The bell rang, signaling the break was over. Hanamaki and Matsukawa disappeared in the blink of an eye, but Iwaizumi lingered for a few seconds, his arms crossed over his chest and his weight resting on the desk.

The girl whose desk he had claimed was coming back, but Iwaizumi didn’t even notice her approach. She said something quietly, startling him enough to get him to jump to his feet.

“Ah, sorry.” He tilted his head in apology and started to leave, but not before throwing a glance in Oikawa’s direction that made his heart stop. There was an unfamiliar gleam in Iwaizumi’s eyes, and for Oikawa to have never seen it before was truly extraordinary.

Then he was gone, and Oikawa was left to muse over it for the rest of the school day.

His classes and lunch went by uneventfully, and even the first half of practice felt normal. But as the hands of the clock got closer and closer to the end of practice, Oikawa’s nerves got worse and worse.

He had to focus extremely hard on his tosses for each of his teammates. Coach Irihata kept sending concerned glances his way, so he bit his lip until it bled and pushed everything but volleyball from his mind.

When practice ended and the gym was cleaned up, Oikawa shuffled to the locker rooms. He changed out of his practice jersey slowly, trying to get his thoughts in order. Hanamaki and Matsukawa patted him on the back as they passed, giving him hopeful grins and words of encouragement.

Iwaizumi was waiting for him outside the locker room, his fingers gliding over his phone screen as he checked his messages. They regarded one another silently for a few seconds. The tension in the air was palpable, and Oikawa wasn’t sure if the sweat dripping down his back was from practice or unease.

“Where are we going?” Iwaizumi asked once they started walking down the empty hallways.

“Ah, I don’t know,” Oikawa admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.

“You asked me to go with you and you don’t even have a plan? Lazykawa.”

“Mean! Iwa-chan is being so mean!” It was an instinctive reaction, one that couldn’t be hindered by any amount of awkward feelings.

Iwaizumi let loose a laugh but quickly reined it in to a snicker.

Oikawa stared at him, dumbfounded. That was rare. But it felt so good to be back to their normal banter, and soon he was chuckling too.

The tension from before evaporated after this exchange, and they walked in a comfortable silence to the nearest ice cream stand. It wasn’t anything fancy; just a little stall set up in front of a grocery store with a small range of flavors to choose from.

Iwaizumi ordered two scoops of green tea ice cream on a cone and Oikawa got one scoop of chocolate and one scoop of strawberry in a bowl. (He had stopped getting cones years ago, because he would inevitably drip ice cream everywhere and Iwaizumi would yell at him for being messy—Messykawa.) Oikawa paid the girl running the stand, who gave him a slight wink in return, and followed Iwaizumi’s lead as they meandered towards the park.

The sun was starting to dip below the horizon, and a whole myriad of colors painted the sky. A gentle summer breeze swept through the park, rustling the leaves on trees and blowing Oikawa’s hair into his eyes. The usual drone of traffic was dying down as people settled down in their homes, ready to relax after a long week.

Oikawa wished _he_ could relax too, because his mind was starting to race at the prospect of Iwaizumi’s response and his heart was beating like crazy. It was maddening, but there was an undercurrent of relief that soothed him. No matter what happened, he’d be okay.

When Oikawa had first realized his feelings, he was terrified. What if he ruined their friendship? What if Iwaizumi hated him forever? Those questions always lingered in the back of his mind, but he’d come to accept that it wasn’t only about himself. He may have been flippant with his female fans, but his feelings for Iwaizumi were no trivial matter. His goal wasn’t to win him over and make him swoon; his goal was the least selfish thing he had ever wished for.

He wanted Iwaizumi Hajime to be happy.

And while it sounded simple on the surface, it was an incredibly daunting task to achieve. Partly because his own desires tended to get in the way, and partly because Iwaizumi could be extremely difficult to please. But because he loved him as much as he did, he took it upon himself to make Iwa-chan happy.

He tried setting him up on dates and inviting him to mixers, hoping he could find him a good girlfriend to take care of. (Oikawa ended up attracting all the girls.)

He tried taking him to arcades to let off some steam during exams. (Oikawa ended up losing and Iwaizumi gave him all the rewards.)

He tried helping him enjoy their stargazing nights by showing him bug-related constellations. (Oikawa ended up laughing when he feel asleep after pointing out the only constellation he knew—Scorpio.)

He tried just about everything under the sun, but it never seemed to be enough.

“How long are you gonna stand there, Trashykawa?”

Oikawa blinked and realized they were standing next to an empty bench. Or, rather, he was standing next to the bench and Iwaizumi had already made himself comfortable on the hard surface. The irony of this same question being uttered a week ago wasn’t lost on him. He only hoped this round turned out better.

“Sorry,” he croaked, and sat down on the bench.

Minutes passed. Cicadas screamed in the background. The sun dropped lower, almost half of it hidden below the horizon now. Streetlights started buzzing to life.

Oikawa fumbled with the long-empty ice cream cup. He was about to get up and throw it away when Iwaizumi spoke.

“I’m sorry, Oikawa.”

He prepared himself for the worst, although it would do little to stop the pit from forming in his stomach.

Iwaizumi paused for a moment, his mouth opening and closing as he struggled to find the right words to say. “I…”

Oikawa watched quietly. It was insanely nerve-racking, seeing Iwaizumi at a loss for words, and he wanted to share his own apologies. But he bit his tongue, determined to let Iwaizumi speak his mind first.

He pressed his lips together for a beat before speaking. “I’m sorry about how I reacted on Friday.”

Oikawa tilted his head in surprise. He had been expecting a total rejection right off the bat.

Iwaiziumi continued. “I…You caught me off-guard and I shouldn’t have run away like that. It was selfish, and dumb, and I’m sorry.”

Oikawa nodded sympathetically. “I—”

“Shut up, Oikawa. I’m not done yet.” Iwaizumi huffed and rested his ankle on his knee. “What you said…it didn’t disgust me, but I was really shocked by it. Well, shocked isn’t the right word; I was confused. Somehow, it didn’t surprise me in the least, it felt almost _natural._ That’s what scared me. That’s why I left.”

He paused long enough to run his hand through his hair. Oikawa noticed the slight tremble in his fingers. “I went home and fell asleep. When I woke up, I thought I had just imagined it all. But my mom asked me if I was okay and said she got a call from your mom, so I figured it wasn’t a dream and that it actually happened.”

Oikawa sat up straighter. ‘A dream,’ he had said.

“I thought you skipped practice on Saturday because of me, but when I found out you were only sick, I felt relieved. _Relieved,”_ he repeated. A bitter chuckle left his lips. “That was the only thing I was sure of. The rest of it was confusing. You gave me quite a few headaches trying to sort that mess out, you know?

“I didn’t know what to make of things, so I thought I should give you space. It worked, until you started moping around everywhere and causing problems at practice. You’re too easy to read, Oikawa. I could see right through that mask you always put on when you’re scared. So, I changed things up and tried to make you a little more relaxed. I still didn’t know what to do, and it took Hanamaki lecturing me to get on it.” He shot a look at Oikawa. “That was completely mortifying, by the way. Getting chewed out by Hanamaki…”

Oikawa grinned sheepishly.

“I had to look back at everything we ever did together and analyze how I felt. What you said and how it felt natural…I needed to know why it felt that way. And as I thought about it, I realized that somewhere along the line,” Iwaizumi paused, inhaling slowly. “Somewhere along the line, I started to feel the same way, too.”

Oikawa’s heart dropped.

“I’m not sure when, but I started to care about you as more-than-friends. I never really noticed it, so I didn’t even consider it until…” he trailed off, the tips of his ears turning red.

Oikawa squinted. No, that wasn’t a trick of the light; his ears were _really_ red.

“Anyways, uh, yeah.” Iwaizumi cleared his throat. His tongue darted out and he licked his lips.

Oikawa was feeling so many things at once that he had to look away. He started tracing patterns in the sidewalk.

“Oikawa.”

He pretended not to hear. This was probably some sort of dream, and he’d wake up any minute alone in his bed, with Iwaizumi still avoiding him and—

“Oikawa, look at me.” A hand on his shoulder. “Tooru.”

His head rose. This was a dream, it had to be.

“I—” Iwaizumi’s whole face was flaming scarlet now. “Tooru, I love you.”

This wasn’t a dream.

Oikawa’s cheeks were wet with tears before he even had a chance to breathe. A strangled whine escaped his throat as he pitched forward, throwing his arms around Iwaizumi in an attempt to physically hold onto the _pure joy_ he felt. “Iwa-chan!”

Iwaizumi barely managed to keep himself upright on the bench. His arms wrapped around Oikawa’s waist _perfectly,_ and he held him close. He could feel Oikawa’s heart beating in his chest, almost as fast as his own. He could feel Oikawa’s tears dripping down his neck and soaking into his shirt. He could feel Oikawa’s breath on his collarbone, hotter than the summer air surrounding them and coming out in gasps between sobs.

He wanted to run his fingers down Oikawa’s spine and feel him melt beneath his touch. (So, he did.)

He wanted to breathe in Oikawa’s familiar scent—the smell of grass that always clung to him from stargazing, with a hint of sweat and cologne. (So, he did.)

He wanted to brush his lips over the top of Oikawa’s head and feel his hair tickle his nose. (So, he did.)

He wanted to pull back and stare into Oikawa’s eyes and see himself reflected in them. (So, he did.)

He wanted to lift his chin, oh so gently, and press their lips together in a long overdue kiss.

So, he did.

If Oikawa was a mess earlier, he was an even bigger mess now. His hands reached up to grab Iwaizumi’s collar, tugging him closer before sliding up to grasp the hair at the base of his neck. His heart was beating so fast he felt like it might explode, and his lungs burned deliciously from want for air.

The sound Iwaizumi made was _animalistic,_ and the hand cupping his face held him tighter.

When they broke the kiss, Oikawa’s head was fuzzy and he felt his whole body tingling. They rested their foreheads together, panting for breath, and locked eyes. This moment felt _right._

Oikawa couldn’t stop the giggle that bubbled over, and soon he and Iwaizumi were laughing blithely together.

He hummed when their laughter died down, nuzzling into Iwaizumi. He gave him a light kiss and pulled away to meet his gaze. “Iwa-chan…”

“Yeah?”

“Hajime,” he corrected, “I love you.”

“I love you, Tooru.”

Oikawa Tooru messed up. Royally. And to make matters worse, he knew he messed up. But he also knew broken things could be mended, and that they would always come back stronger. This moment with Iwaizumi Hajime, the man he loved more than life itself, was proof of that.

And it begged the question, had he really messed up to begin with?

That’s for you to decide.

**Author's Note:**

> Slightly less angst than usual. Don't worry, I'll make up for it ;)  
> As always, I hope you enjoyed reading!


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